Of Ghouls, Thieves, and Baseball
by AuroraDannon
Summary: Between a poltergeist and a pair of sleuthing brothers, what could go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

A/N Here is the story I have been promising a few of you. I hope you enjoy my view of the Hardy Boys meet theWinchesters.

For those of you not really sure about the Hardy universe this is based off of the casefiles stories. Where the brothers seem to have some great personalities and things actaully go wrong sometimes. Another words its a bit more realistic. I am going to try and write it so you wont need to have too much knowledge of the Hardy universe, but feel free to ask any questions you may have.

**Of Ghouls, Thieves, and Baseball**

"So are we thinking this is a poltergeist?" Sam questioned as he hefted the carryall bag from the trunk of the impala.

"Probably, might as well bring a few things just in case. It still might just be a nasty ghost." Dean didn't even turn around with his reply. His gaze was fixed on the mansion looming before him. "At least it doesn't look like it has been deserted for the last fifty years. The porch looks like it should hold up to your lard ass."

Sam didn't even dignify the childish comment with an answer. "Lets get this over with. I am tired, and I want a shower."

Stealthily, Sam fallowed his brother, who was in full hunter mode. He admired his brother's instincts and unerring sense of direction. He watched the rear, amazed that Dean seemed to know where they were going in the house. In mere minutes, they were on the second floor in an old library that the attacks were reputed to stem from.

Once he got the 'all clear for the moment' signal from Dean, Sam set the bag on the ground and proceeded to remove the items that they would need for the poltergeist. A noise just outside the library doors brought Sam's eyes up to meet his brothers. Pausing for a moment, he watched the split decision go across his brother's face. Accepting the nod to continue what he was doing, he moved his gun a little closer as he wearily continued to pull the needed items from the bag.

The door suddenly banged open as two men came instantly through, with guns raised. Sam was up in a moment's flash, his gun aimed and ready. There was a moment of deadly stillness in the room as the occupants eyed each other.

"Frank!"

"Dean!"

"Sam!"

"Joe!"

To say he was stunned was an understatement. The last place he ever expected to run into the Hardy Boys was in Kansas. Let a lone a _haunted house_. It may have been ten years since they had all been together, but people like them left an impression that was hard to forget.

New York Ten Years Earlier 

Sam watched his brother's pursed lips as he drove. From the corner of his eye he watched as his Dean moved his arm from the steering wheel to rub absently his shoulder. Sam even caught the slight wince that Dean tried to hide from him. He couldn't take it anymore. "Dean-"

"Don't!" Sam was cut off before he could even begin. He knew that his brother shouldn't be driving in his condition, but dad was adamant about them getting to New York by nightfall.

"But-"

"Sam!" Dean growled at him, not even bothering to glance at the younger man. "I don't need you as a distraction right now. Dad said 'follow,' so we are following. Got it?"

Sam closed his eyes. His clenched his jaw tightly. Able to growl out an affirmative, he turned to look out the window.

His dad was being _pig headed_. One more day wouldn't have made a difference. It was just some stupid haunted forest. The papers said that people were staying away. Sam did the research himself. He _knew_ it was a solid case. Even at his thirteen years of life, he was good at what he did. Since his father was way over protective of him and he got left behind quite often, Sam had started to take on the responsibilities of researching. Whether it was the current case or one for the future.

But that didn't mean that he didn't occasionally make mistakes. Currently, he knew that while he was pissed at his father for not having Dean's back, he was really angry with himself for screwing up the case. He had said it was just a really pissed off spirit, and they had believed him. But it was really _ten_ _extremely_ pissed off spirits. While things had ended in their favor, not all of the Winchester's had made it out fine.

Dean had ended up with a concussion, dislocated shoulder, and too many bruises to count. Dean really needed a day to rest, but Dad was ready to head to this haunted forest before it killed anyone else. So Dean, being Dean, started to pack his stuff once he was able to get to his feet. Sam had even fought with their father about it, saying that Dean could barely walk straight.

Dean, ever the good soldier, immediately stood up straight and walked a straight line for his father, proving that he was fine and could follow directions like he had been told.

So now they were here, in New York, heading towards a haunted forest. Sam snorted to himself. At least he would be in school for most of this hunt.

He refocused in front of him when he felt the Impala slow down. He noticed their father's truck in front of them pulling away as it dodged around the rocks and fallen boulders. Sighing, Sam looked up the cliffside. Must have been a rockslide in the storm they had driven through a few hours back. Leave it to their father to pick a back road that most people wouldn't drive on, and therefore wasn't the top list of roads to clear.

He did a double take when he saw something moving on the top of the cliffside. "Dean!" was all he got out as something went flying through the air and landed on the hood of the impala.

"Shit!" Dean exclaimed in surprise as he hit the brakes. The some_thing _turned out to be a some_one_. Dean and Sam looked at each other for a moment before they both undid their seatbelts and cautiously climbed out of the impala. Dean nodded at Sam to check the person out while he scanned the perimeter.

Sam studied the man before him. He looked to be about Dean's age with blonde hair and similar body build. Sam noticed Bayport High written on the torn and bloody letter jacket. As he reached out to check the pulse, a low moan got his attention.

"Hey," He didn't know what to say. What do you say to someone who just landed on the hood of your car? 'Its going to be ok?' just didn't seem to cut it. But Sam used it anyway. He was relieved when he heard the deep rumble of his dad's truck returning. _He_ would know what to do.

Sam watched as his father climbed cautiously from his truck. "Dean!" he all but barked, he wanted a report.

"I don't see anything, sir." Sam was amazed that Dean had slipped so fast into hunter mode. He was standing with his arms raised, aiming his revolver at the tree line above them. His eyes still scanning as he answered their father.

Sam felt his father step closer and watched as his hands ghosted over the young man, checking the severity of his injuries. When his hands reached the ribs, another moan escaped from the young man, and his hands moved, trying to push the pain away.

"I'm sorry, son, but I gotta check your ribs."

Blue eyes blearily opened. "Who are you?" he whispered.

Sam watched his fathers face as he answered, "I'm John Winchester. May I ask your name?"

The blue eyes studied them both for a moment. "Joe, Joe Hardy." His breath hitched and John's hands ghosted once more over his ribs.

"Well Joe, I'm going to call an ambulance and see about getting you some help. It seems you have a few broken ribs here."

Joe nodded his head as his eyes once again slid shut. Sam was startled when his father pulled his hands away bloody. John absently wiped them on his pants as he went back to his truck and pulled out the cell phone to call 911.

"Dean." This time the tone told Dean to stand down. Dean nodded and slowly put his gun away, turning to Sam and the boy lying on the hood.

"Sam? You good?" His brother's voice brought him out of the daze he had fallen into.

He shook himself once. "Yeah, why would someone do this Dean?"

"I," he paused, "I really don't know."

"An ambulance and the cops are on their way," their father stated as he walked up to them. "Dean, why don't you get a blanket from the trunk."

Sam silently watched as his father and Dean covered the boy in a blanket and tried to keep him comfortable in the cold weather. There was snow on the ground, and Sam noticed that the clouds seemed to be circling around to them again with promise of another winter storm.

He was relived when he heard the sirens in the distance. The young man was starting to shiver uncontrollably on the hood of the impala.

Sam felt his father's stance change as the ambulance pulled as close as it could through the rubble strewn on the ground. Sam turned to watch and noticed the police cars following close behind. He was a little startled to notice the one in front stated it was the police chief's vehicle.

The three Winchesters stepped back and let the paramedics do their work on the young man. Sam was so intent on watching, he missed the first part of the conversation that was going on around him.

Refocusing, once Joe was loaded into the ambulance, he realized that his father was talking with the Chief of Police.

"So, your boys where the ones that found him?"

Sam stared wide-eyed at his brother who couldn't keep the snort from coming out. "No, sir. It was more like _he_ found _us_."

When the officer looked at him, Dean continued, "Sam and I were following our dad and trying to pick our way through that crap when Sam yelled out to me. Just as I was hitting the brakes, he came flying from that cliff."

Sam tried to school his features to match that of Dean's, trying to look sincere and truthful, backing up his brother's story. It was the truth. Mostly. Dean just neglected to say that there was also some sort of shadow up on the cliff that seemed to blend into the trees moments after the boy hit their car.

Just as the Chief was about to ask them a few more questions, another officer came up. "Chief, I'm sorry. It's Fenton. He's calling about Joe. He wants to know if it's really him."

With a grim face, the Chief turned back to them, "I am sorry. Officer Riley here will have to finish your statements. I need to go and talk with the boy's father."

At the Winchesters' nods he was off, leaving Officer Riley in his wake. "I am sorry for what happened today. But I am so glad you found him. Joe is a great kid. He's been missing for five days. His family has been tearing up the town trying to find him."

Sam was shocked. This boy, about Dean's age, had been taken by something and was gone for five days? He didn't remember reading anything about it in the paper. He knew he had done the research well and it bothered him that he couldn't remember reading anything about it. He avoided his father's gaze, he knew he had disappointed the man, but more importantly he had disappointed himself.

"Can I take a name and a number where you can be reached? This has been a bit of a big case and we might need you to answer some questions later on." At John's nod the officer handed John a pad of paper and a pen to write the information down.

"Will you be staying in the area?"

"Yes," there father answered without looking up. "My boys are being enrolled at Bayport High in the morning. They should be starting next Monday. This is the address of where we will be staying."

"Thank you so much. Once the road is cleared a bit more you can be on your way." With that, the officer headed back to his vehicle to finish the scene with his fellow officers.

John turned to the boys. "Lets keep going, we are almost to the apartment. Then we can do some more research once we get there."

"Yes, sir." Came the automatic reply from both boys. As Sam climbed back into the Impala he started hard at the hood. It would take a long time to get the image of the body landing out of his mind. Even closing his eyes it was forever imprinted there. He vowed once they got to their current place of living he was going to do two things. One, to look up more about this case and the missing Joe Hardy, and two, to see if the boy in question was going to be ok.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N I am sorry this took forever to write. But here it is...

Disclaimer/Spoilers: See Chapter 1

Frank stared at the phone in his hands. His very brief conversation with his father both eased his fears and sharpened them. Joe had been found. They were taking him to the hospital. Frank had asked if he was conscious but his father's response was not very reassuring.

Frank could feel his breath quicken, the rage in his heart building. His brother was alive, but dad sounded so unsure. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes. The frustration and fear overwhelmed him. His fists balled and his eyes closed. A screaming rage boiled over inside. It took a moment to realize that the scream was real, and it had come from his lips.

_Frank. Frank. _Herealized there was a whisper around him. The pounding in his ears slowly subsided and he finally registered Callie's soft timbre voice. He looked over at her and saw the fear in her eyes. He watched as she reached very slowly up and pulled his hand from the wall. He hadn't even realized that his fist had gone through it.

"Frank? Frank? Did they find Joe?" The terror cracked her voice, making her try once again, trying to be steady. "Frank, did they find him? Is Joe okay?"

Frank took a moment to steady his mind. The positive aspect was Joe had been found and that, for the moment, he was alive. "Yes, they found him. He is alive. But…" Frank couldn't finish. His father had told him that a pair of brothers has somehow stumbled upon him, that he had fallen from a cliff, that for a few moments, at least, he was conscious. They were able to get a name to the police. But his brother was far from alright, and things were very touch and go.

Frank looked deep into Callie's eyes, letting her see the fear, anger, and worry that he thought he was going to drown in. He saw calmness settle around her and watched as she took charge. The pounding was back in his ears, but he followed when she pulled him towards Chet's car. He was momentarily puzzled as to why they were going in Chet's car until he remembered that they had been with him, sitting vigil and trying to sort out any clues the police and his father had missed. The call had erased his memory of the last few hours. He needed to calm down and be strong for his Dad, for his mom. For Joe.

He felt Callie on his arm, saw her lips moving. It took a few moments before he realized that she was trying to sooth him and remind him what a hardhead Joe was and that he would be fine. He took solace in the comfort of his friends around him and the knowledge that he was heading towards his brother, so he could see with his _own_ eyes how Joe was fairing.

Frank stumbled into the emergency room doors, both holding onto and pulling away from Callie's supporting arm. Fear thudded in his chest until he found his father. "Dad!" His heart hiccupped as his father's eyes met his. Then, he was wrapped in his father's arms.

Frank stood stiff, waiting for the words, good or bad. "He will be okay." His father whispered into his ears. "It will be a long recovery, but he will be okay." That was an invitation for the flood gates to open. Frank felt his body sag into his father, gut wrenching sobs wracking his body.

After a while his body slowed down and he let his father lead him to a chair next to his mother. When Frank saw her, guilt washed over him. "Mom, I am _so _sorry_. _Its' entirely my fault! I should have watched out for him better." Frank knew he was rambling, but couldn't stop the words from tumbling from his mouth.

"Oh, honey. It's not your fault." His mother reached over and grabbed him into a fierce hug. "Don't beat your self up over this, Frank. Blame the **_Bastards_** that did this to him!" Frank was startled at the venom coming from his mother's mouth. He looked up at his father, unsure of how to react to this new side showing from her.

Laura's hands turned Frank's face towards her. "Frank, understand me. This **is**_not_**your** fault! Your brother will be fine. But I want you and your father to get the _Bastards_ who did this. I want them gone for good." She looked away from Frank's eyes towards his father's.

Frank new his father's expression must have mirrored his, anger and agreement that these men will pay.

"Mr. Hardy?" Frank was startled to hear his friend Chet's voice. He had forgotten that his friends were with him. "I think I speak for all of us. We all want to see these people get justice. We will do everything that we can." Frank felt a swell of pride, that his brother was so well loved. That everyone would come to aid him, No matter the circumstances.

"The family for Joe Hardy…?" Everyone turned around to see the doctor standing at the edge of the waiting room.

Frank's father raised his hand. "Over here."

Frank watched as the mixed emotions cross the doctor's face. "Would the family members follow me, please?"

Frank made brief eye contact with his mother and father. Then his father was helping his mother stand to follow the doctor. Frank slowly rose to follow them. He felt Callie's light touch on his arm. He could see tears in her eyes.

She enveloped him in a hug, whispering in his ear. "He will be okay. He loves you too much to leave you." She kissed him on the cheek before pulling away.

Frank looked at his circle of friends. "We.." his voice cracked.

"It's okay Frank. We'll all be here waiting." Frank nodded thanks to Chet and followed his waiting parents.

Frank nervously entered the doctor's office. His mother took one of the two chairs across from the doctor. Fenton stood behind Laura for moral support.

Frank didn't know where he belonged. Emotions swept through him as a fast flowing river. Guilt. Anger. Fear. Worry. Guilt. Guilt was defiantly the largest of the emotions. Guilt over not noticing his brother was gone an unusually long time. Guilt over Joe being missing for days on end, guilt for not being the one to find him. He was a _Detective. _Damn it! He should have searched harder, looked for more clues. Joe should not have been missing for so long, and Frank should have been a better older brother and been able to find him. Yes, he was grateful that Joe had been found. But guilt still weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Frank settled on leaning against the wall in the back for support. He watched as the doctor slowly settled him self, playing with a file. A sudden dread filled Frank. Maybe one of the complications had hit. What if Joe was gone? The doctor had separated them from everyone else. They usually didn't do that unless it was bad news. Frank felt the breath being sucked from his lungs. After a moment with that thought he dismissed it. It didn't feel right. He would know if Joe was…_gone_. Even in his own mind he had a hard time saying it.

Fear gripped him, he knew Joe wasn't dead. But that didn't mean Joe wasn't out of trouble yet.

The doctor looked up. "Joe has been stabilized. It has been very touch and go. He has some pretty extensive injuries, the worst being some broken ribs that punctured a lung. He has gone into surgery to repair the damage. When he is out he will be hooked up to a lot of wires, and there will be a chest tube to help him breath. As long as infection doesn't set in any worse we should be able to down grade him in the next few days."

Fenton spoke up. "You said the infection getting _worse_?"

"I wanted to talk with you privately about the nature of some of the injuries." The doctor paused, making sure he had everyone's attention and then took a deep breath before starting again. "He was beaten. Looks like a blunt object. It was days ago that most of the injuries happened. We think he may have been in the woods the rest of that time, moving around. Being exposed to the weather and everything else has compounded some of the initial injuries."

Frank drew a hand across his face. He didn't want to hear any more. His brother had been beaten and he hadn't been there to help him, save him. Protect him.

"Joe was first conscious when the police were contacted. According to the reports he fell off of a cliff and landed on a car that was thankfully going slowly on the roads."

Frank felt his breath catch in his throat. His stomach clenched. He couldn't take it anymore. With his hand covering his mouth, he ran from the room in search of the nearest bathroom, his Mother's yells trailing after him.

Frank leaned back against the coolness of the bathroom stall sides, resting his head against the door. _This was too much! Why, is this one so bad? I have seen horrible things done to other people. I have even seen Joe beaten pretty badly. But this…This time he nearly died. _Frank's torturous thoughts plagued him as he sat on the bathroom floor in the hospital.

Frank knew that his main problem was that he wasn't as aware as he thought. That he missed seeing something happen to Joe and wasn't there to protect him. He knew that logically, there really wasn't much he could have done about it. Logically he had done everything that was humanly possible to find his brother. _So why is this hitting me so hard? _Frank took a few deep breaths trying to steady himself. _I wasn't with him. I wasn't there to encourage him, to reassure him. I wasn't there to be in control. That's it. I wasn't in control and this is the closest he has ever been to really being in irreversible trouble. _

Frank knew that Joe wasn't out of trouble yet, but now he was relatively safe and that as soon as the doctors would allow, he would be with his brother and he would be there to reassure him, encourage him. He needed to let go of not having been there the past few days and concentrate on being there from now on. _I promise Joe, from here on out I will keep better watch. You will _not_ get hurt like this again!_


End file.
